


Care to Dance?

by morieganth



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Blow Jobs, Clothed Sex, Other, Public Blow Jobs, Public Sex, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:07:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26984893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morieganth/pseuds/morieganth
Summary: Juno Steel has been working undercover for... several weeks at this point. And the party he was dragged to would be the perfect distraction if it wasn't for the bad company. Little did he know that when he would sneak away, he would encounter a... familiar partycrasher.
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Comments: 5
Kudos: 105





	Care to Dance?

Juno is bored. Incredibly so, so damn bored of this stupid party and this stuffy dress that makes it impossible to so much as  _ sit _ . He just doesn’t understand the appeal of these kinds of things, throwing a ball just to show off how much better you think you are than anyone else. His damn dress costs more than it would have to buy a  _ house _ in Hyperion. It  _ is _ fun seeing other people’s gowns, even if all of the exaggeratedly pleasant conversation and mind-numbing small talk is making his skin crawl. 

He looks around, hoping to spot anyone that he is in any way familiar with, but he seems to have been thoroughly ditched. The woman he came with, his…  _ aunt _ , seems to have abandoned him at the first chance she got. She’s probably schmoozing it up with some multibillionaires as he’s just left fending off men who are twice  _ his _ age. A sigh, if he has to deal with one more sleazy creep who thinks that having money will get them whatever they want he might sock them, reputation be damned. 

Security at the shindig is tight, but he manages to slip by a couple of utterly distracted guards and ducks away into an adjoining hallway. He’s hoping to find a way to get upstairs and watch the ball from above– it’s probably beautiful, seeing the people swaying and twirling below. Juno finds the staircase, balling fabric up in his hands just so that he can make it up the damn thing. It’s the hoop that makes it really aggravating; the bottom is barely even within arm’s reach. And if the way he waddles up the stairs is absolutely unladylike, at least there’s no one around to witness it.

Upstairs is quiet, a huge contrast from the thundering crescendos of music downstairs. He finally feels like he has some breathing room, taking his time as he walks down the hall. There are paintings lining the walls that could probably sell for a couple million creds each, not to mention all the gaudy statues. He can’t imagine having this much money to throw around and not even making sure the pieces are  _ good _ . He’s in no way an expert on art, but he at least knows what looks nice. He tries to refocus, doesn’t want his irritation to build to the point that he’s tempted to start trashing shit. That’s not why he’s here, although it  _ would  _ be satisfying. Juno spots the balcony overlooking the ballroom, doubling his efforts to reach it so he can finally see the action. 

He’s barely just placed his hands on the railing when he hears a thud in a room beside him. Juno isn’t supposed to be up here, shouldn’t have snuck away from the crowd– but no one else should be up here either, partygoer or otherwise. There’s always the chance that it could be a handsy couple, or a very thorough security guard, but there’s no way to be sure. A hand slides down to one of the ruffles of his dress, where he very carefully created a pocket just big enough to hold a small gun, not wanting to have to use it but ready if it comes down to it. He can barely hear the footsteps over the music rising from the ballroom below, and he’s almost willing to believe he made them up when the door handle starts to turn. He swears quietly, turning around to face the door right as it opens. 

The man that Juno finds himself face to face with is… Handsome. A lean but gentle face, silky soft looking hair, and a foot or so taller than Juno. From the look on his sharp face, he’s just as surprised to see anyone else away from the party as Juno is. Juno has a second to consider exactly how he should react to the situation, torn between responding as Juno Steel or… He needs to focus; he doesn’t know the man before him, shouldn’t let his guard down quite yet. He clearly wasn’t invited, even if the clothes he’s wearing  _ could _ allow him to blend into the crowd downstairs. Juno knows the door to the room he just left locks  _ electronically _ . Juno has his gun aimed right at the mysterious intruder’s heart, wishing he had any way to repel him without setting off an alarm or screaming. The stranger composes himself quickly, the surprise leaving his face so smoothly it was as though it never existed, as though he could convince Juno that he’d simply imagined it, and in its place is a sharp-toothed grin.

“Oh, well! Hello there, madame. I must admit, I wasn’t expecting to see anyone up here.” The intruder’s intonation  _ almost _ sounds like that of someone who comes from money, a quality that Juno’s only just learned to recognize. The people in his life had spent plenty of hours in recent months trying to pound the signs into his skull so he could recognize them in moments like this. But that slight imperfection means the intruder is putting on a show, wearing a mask to fit the ball. But this isn’t a masquerade, Juno won’t fall for it.

“Yeah, I bet not. What do you think you’re doin’ up here, huh?” The surprise doesn’t quite make a return appearance, but there’s a flicker of it behind scheming eyes. People always discredit Juno, once they realize that he didn’t come from this world, where money’s all that matters. They see him as a street urchin, a problem child, a charity case. He’s curious to see how the intruder decides to react to it.

“Ah, well, I was simply seeking an escape from the ball below. Surely that isn’t something you can fault me for?” Juno isn’t quite sure what he should do here. He could definitely take the guy if it came down to a fight on a normal day, but in this dress all he would have to do is knock Juno over. He would also get into  _ so much _ trouble if he gets involved in a fight, which is something he would rather avoid.

“No, I guess not.” Juno pointedly does not lower his gun. They both know the excuse is shaky at best, no need to pretend otherwise. There’s also no reason to reveal that he would probably miss the damn shot even if he fired, or that his gun is set to stun, or that he would never pull the trigger. “You better get back to the party, then.”

“And lose the pleasure of your company so soon? That would be utterly criminal of me.” The intruder makes a face, small, barely noticeable, as though he can’t believe he said that. Juno, on the other hand, thinks it’s hilarious– the guy who’s literally party crashing, probably with the goal of stealing something priceless, claiming that leaving Juno alone would be a crime. 

“You flatter me.” Juno lowers the gun and slips it back into his dress, accepting that the intruder seems frustratingly determined to stick to the stealthy cover approach. If it was Juno, he would have abandoned the whole deal by now. He walks up to the intruder, his gown practically forcing him to back away from the door. He watches Juno as he closes the door back up, both hearing the electronic beep of the lock reactivating. He can’t help the slightly teasing tone when he asks, “Who are you, anyways?”

“Jasper Capulet, at your service, madame. And might I ask your name?” There was no hesitation before Capulet gave a name; he clearly had this cover story ready before Juno had caught him practically red-handed. Juno wonders how many alternatives he had prepared, an arsenal for him to pick from depending on the circumstances of his first introduction.

“Medora.” Capulet isn’t the only one with a cover here. Juno has a  _ very _ established role, one that he has spent a  _ long _ time working on.

“Medora…?” He’s smiling, one perfect eyebrow raised. Juno’s eye catches on light purple lipstick and sharp teeth before he quickly averts his gaze.

“Just Medora. Now, come on, I want to see the dancing.” He holds out his arm, pleasantly surprised when Capulet takes it in his own. Once they’re standing at the railing they’re lit up by the golden light of the party below, and the glow makes Capulet look almost ethereal. He promptly looks away, feeling the warmth on his cheeks. He’s a sucker for a pretty face, always has been. And that’s always gotten him into trouble, always made him act stupid, especially in situations where he couldn’t afford to. He risks one more quick glance and freezes when he sees that Capulet is already watching him. They stare at each other for way too long, both feeling the weight of the other’s eyes. Both seeing the warmth there.

Juno looks away first, attention caught by the sound of a mic turning on below. They both turn to watch the Lord of the house as he stands in front of the crowd, clearing his throat and giving everyone a warm smile. He feels Capulet’s eyes on him again, flickering back and forth between him and the Lord. And Juno knows why –  it’s not like there are many others in the crowd wearing the same silvers and reds, in fact it’s reserved for only one other woman sitting near the front of the audience. And it’s  _ certainly  _ not like Juno’s eyepatch has the Lord’s crest on it or anything. In his defense, it’s darker in the halls above the party and Capulet might not have realized that one yet. And yet, Capulet seems to be lacking some details about the party he was crashing, which is… Strange. Juno sighs, looking up from the speech and letting his gaze wander across the room, paling when he sees security making their way upstairs.

He isn’t sure why his first reaction is dread. He should be thrilled to have this chance to send the thief away without risking alerting any of the partygoers. But all he knows is that he does  _ not _ want Capulet to get caught. He glances back down the hallway he came from, seeing the tops of heads beginning to pop into view.

“Capulet, you need to hide.”

“What?”

“Security is coming upstairs.  _ I’ll _ be fine, but you need to hide  _ now _ .” Juno turns to shoo him through the door that he snuck in from, only to blanche when he remembers he locked it back up. “Fuck.”

“I don’t have time to get it open, again. I don’t suppose you would happen to have the key?”

“No, why would I? There has to be somewhere else.” Juno’s looking around frantically, but every door he can see has the same red light on the lock. There isn’t a single place he can think of that Capulet could escape to. 

“Well, I have one idea…” Capulet trails off, looking uncertain.

“What? What is it?” Here Juno is, floundering to think of a plan that doesn’t end with Capulet getting arrested, and the man is being cagey about sharing a potential solution. He glares, counting precious seconds wasted before Capulet finally decides to share his idea, which he does in the worst way possible. He slowly raises a finger to point directly at Juno’s dress. “Oh, no. You have  _ got  _ to be kidding me.”

“Medora, dear, that’s the only option and we both know it.” Juno makes a face at the pet name but begins to ball up the dress enough for Capulet to squeeze under. For the first time of the night, Juno’s grateful for the ridiculous hoops required of the party. He’s also fucking grateful that he decided to wear some big-ass heels for this, because otherwise Capulet probably wouldn’t have been able to comfortably fit.

As it stands, Capulet is still pressed uncomfortably close to Juno’s legs. 

He’s gone back to standing casually at the railing when the security finally arrives, watching from the corner of his eye as one guard spots him, glaring at him and beginning to work their way over when their partner grabs them and shakes her head. One nice thing about being… color coordinated. No one will bother him as long as he looks like he has a personal connection to the Lord of the house. The speech is nice; there’s talk about the future, with promises about investments into schools and medicine and general good. Juno can’t help the small smile that forms on his face at the thought, but it quickly sours when he remembers the last person he knew who talked like that. 

His frown twists into a full-on scowl when he feels warm breath on his leg. There’s no reason for Capulet to be  _ that _ close. He feels fingers brushing the back of his leg, soft, thin fingers trailing up and down from calf to mid thigh. And all of a sudden, much later than he probably should have, Juno processes exactly what kind of position the two of them are in. A blush fills his face, one of the deepest he’s felt in his entire life. The touches are terrible, overwhelming in just how light they are. 

Oh so quietly, and still close enough that he feels every word against his thigh, Capulet whispers to him, “Are we clear yet, darling?”

Juno scans the room. The guards that had been closer to them have left, but a quick look at the balcony across from them informs him that the guards on that side are still there. One makes eye contact with him and nods their head, and Juno gives a sheepish little wave back before turning away and whispering back. “No. I’ll let you know when you’re good.”

“Alright. Not that I’m complaining.” The hand slides a bit closer to his inner thigh and Juno doesn’t feel bad about kicking him a little bit. “Ow! My love, you are so cruel.”

“Nure-  _ Capulet _ . Focus!” He looks around carefully, making sure that there aren’t any surprise guards that he missed earlier. They’re still in the clear, and he breathes a small sigh of relief that quickly turns into a gasp when he feels Capulet’s lips ghost over the silk of his underwear. 

“What was that, Juno? Ah, I mean Medora, of course.” Juno’s about to make fun of him, tease him for fully breaking cover before Juno did, when Capulet’s tongue presses its way up along his cock. His train of thought is gone, completely out the window, and he grabs at the banister to brace himself. The presentation is still going on downstairs, a different speaker is on-stage now and Juno can’t help but to glower because he  _ knows  _ this guy is a real piece of work. There are nimble fingers grabbing at his underwear and he tries to kick Capulet away again, but the man won’t be swayed this time. “Oh, come now, Juno, dearest. It’s not like there’s anyone nearby, is there?”

Juno sighs, acquiescing to fully abandoning their very important covers, at least while they’re… Well. As alone as they’re going to get. Nureyev has a point, though. There’s no way the guards on the other side can tell that anything is happening, much less the people down below. And it’s been… a while since he last saw Nureyev. This is one of the most ballsy heists that Buddy has proposed, and it took a  _ lot _ of build up. His underwear is pulled down in a quick flourish of Nureyev’s wrists, falling to the floor around his ankles.

“Fine. Just, ah, just be quiet.”

“I was about to say the same thing to you, dear. You do tend to be the more vocal between the two of us.” Juno can feel Nureyev’s smug grin against his thigh, feel a hand wrap around his cock, the warmth of the man pressed up against him. He bites his lip, careful to not  _ visibly _ react in such a way that would blow it for them. Nureyev’s gotten  _ very _ good at knowing exactly what will make Juno fall apart. And of course, he’s using everything that he’s learned to his advantage. 

“S-Shut up.” He’s trying to keep his breathing even, focus on keeping his voice down. Nureyev, on the other hand, seems determined to make Juno yell out in the middle of this incredibly fancy party. The way he moves his hand, the way he’s kissing and biting at his inner thighs. Juno manages to bite back a moan, which instead comes out as a choked noise that has Nureyev humming encouragingly against him.

He’s not able to completely hold back the noise that tries to claw its way out of him when Nureyev takes him into his throat. Juno slaps a hand over his mouth, mortification and pleasure turning his face as hot as lava. He glances up towards the other balcony again, grateful to see that the security seems to be watching the speaker instead of him. He kicks half-heartedly at Nureyev, feeling his laughter around him.

“You’re such a bastard.” He breathes out the words, impressed that he manages to form the sentence without making any weird noises in between. Nureyev hums a vague sound of agreement, running his skillful tongue over his head. A new person steps up to speak as the person before them takes a bow. The audience claps politely, and Juno does the same, a tiny whine escaping his throat as Nureyev lets him slip from his mouth.

“What’s happening, Juno? Why are you clapping?”

“New speaker. Looks like, uh, some pharma-megacorp guy.” He sucks in his breath as Nureyev gets back to “work,” fingers playing with him perfectly. Juno takes a second to try and put his thoughts back together. “Do we care at all about an, ah, an Erastus Polk?”

“I don’t. You should probably try harder to remember how important people are, Madame Medora Barcala. I feel like you would make better use of your time spent undercover.”

“You know what? That’s a good point. Maybe I’ll just go back down and leave you to continue to do… wait, why  _ are  _ you even here?” There’s a long pause between Juno’s question and Nureyev’s answer. He just  _ knows _ that if he could see Nureyev, he would be making the face he does when he’s trying to come up with an answer on the spot. Well, the face he makes when he’s trying to make up an answer for Juno, at least.

“I… I honestly just wanted to see you. It has been… a long time since I had even heard your voice. And I knew you would look stunning in your gown and… I was going to figure out how to get down and dance with you.” The genuine words and tone make Juno blush, feeling a plethora of emotions stirring in his chest. Then, Nureyev ruins the moment by licking the tip of his cock and continues smugly. “However, this is perhaps even better.”

And Juno’s back in Nureyev’s mouth. He’s moving with new purpose, not so fast as to give them both away, but close. Juno really wishes that he could tangle his fingers in Nureyev’s hair, to have any amount of control over the speed, but he’s completely in Nureyev’s hands. Juno’s left gripping the banister for dear life, trying not to let his legs shake. The things that man does with his tongue are… indescribable, amazing.

When Juno finally cums, it’s with a small hiss of “ _ Nureyev _ ” before he spills into his mouth. He barely manages to not physically shudder, but he definitely feels his brain shut off for a second there. Juno looks up, across the expanse of the ballroom, worried that his reaction might have been enough to alert the guards. He’s pleasantly surprised when he sees that the balcony across from them is empty. 

“Nureyev, coast is clear.”

“Mm? Oh, yes, of course. Just a moment, Juno, dear.” Juno tries not to get even more flustered as Nureyev pulls his underwear back up, holding onto Juno’s hips for just a moment before ducking down to finally escape the confines of Juno’s dress. He looks… he looks like he just got fucked, even if there was nothing Juno could have done to contribute to that. His hair is a mess, his lipstick is smudged, meaning there must be at least a few smudges of that same light purple left on him in  _ several  _ incriminating spots. He looks beautiful, absolutely beautiful.

“You should… probably go, huh?” Juno hates to even suggest it, hates the idea of having to go back down to this damn party and track down the awful woman he came with.

“Probably… But, Buddy seems to believe we’ll be able to perform the heist soon, so we’ll be able to pick you up before long.” They’re both pathetic, can barely handle the idea of not seeing each other for a few more days after the… after the year they went without seeing each other at all. Nureyev recovers first, putting on a polite smile that reads entirely as the cover that he’d given him before.. “I shall see you soon, madame.”

“Of course, Capulet. You better steal something nice before you leave.”


End file.
